Heavenly Hell
by kbeto
Summary: After completing 15, Scott sees his life change upon discovering his werewolf powers and the arrival of his own familiar, Derek. Everything would be good and well, if Scott didn't happen to have two familiars who never stop bickering for a second and only agree on one thing: murder as a solution to everything. Sterek AU, written for the SterekFest.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or else we would be drowning in Sterek since season 2!_

_I can't even remember when I started this one, but figured it would be a good opportunity to finish it and redeem myself from not writing some Sterek for months (I swear I'm still working on the final piece for the Pokémon crossover). The idea comes from Daunt's amazing art (can't post links on FF check this same story on AO3), and I only had to add my own spin to it._

_In this universe supernatural beings have a familiar that reflects their own alignment in the world._

Heavenly Hell 

When Scott first found out about his werewolf powers, he got excited just like any teenage boy would. A new world of opportunities unfolded before his eyes, one where he could sprint as fast as the wind, smell the pizza delivery guy approaching his house, and read people's emotions through their heartbeats— all pretty handy, if you'd ask him.

However, like everything in life, Scott's powers also came with a downside. _Two,_ to be more specific: his own life became tied to the existence of his familiar, and to make things worse, he happened to have to two, which _"isn't common occurrence, since everybody is more inclined to law or chaos,"_ as Deaton—his boss and consultant for supernatural-related matters—explained.

And that's how Scott's teen life had changed to include Derek and Stiles. Derek, the Law familiar, appeared short after Scott saved a little girl from being hit by a bus. He looked (and acted) just like your stereotypical good conscience, dressed in a white toga-like vest, halo, wide feather-covered wings— everything anybody would expect from a Law familiar, even if Scott knew they could choose a different appearance. Again, Derek always sounded so serious and uptight, as if somebody had peed in his cereal, so Scott decided against saying anything about his familiar's questionable fashion sense.

Stiles, as Scott found out from just one glance, was the complete opposite of Derek. Being a Chaos familiar, his tongue was sharp enough to cut diamond with ease, and he seemed to lack any kind of control over his sarcastic remarks, often firing them at Scott—his master, whom he _supposedly_ should respect—and nearly _getting off_ on taunting Derek.

The second familiar arrived one week after Derek, a few hours following Scott's first fight after gaining his werewolf powers: a guy trying to rob Scott went to the hospital with a broken hand due to a punch that Scott could have easily dodged. Only that he _didn't, _and for that Derek talked his ear off on the way back home, carrying on his lecture till Stiles (not his actual name, but a simpler and easier version to pronounce) popped out a spark, casually dressed in a red hoodie and black jeans, asking Derek to _"undo the knot in your panties"_ and that _"motherfucker brought that on himself for meddling with a werewolf"_.

Scott was sure that the only reason they didn't kill each other within their first 5 minutes arguing had something to do with their lives being connected. It would suck to die so young, because he happened to have three different ways to _buy_ a casket, though he figured that neither Stiles or Derek were eager about ending their existences, thus leading the three to an _almost_ pacific relationship. As pacific as it could get, considering that even their elements didn't mix too well— wind can't do much against fire, except, well, _spread_ _it_.

Yeah, Scott was as happy as the next person that they managed to survive two entire years in this new arrangement. Not that he had much to complain about, as it seemed that his familiars slipped into a non-verbal, mutual accord of coexistence. Scott knew Derek respected Stiles (and vice-versa) to some extent, and the fact that neither tried to kill the other was good enough for him.

His life also being on the line would be nothing but a _mere_ detail. Not a real concern, or anything.

"I'm trying to guide you to Isaac's heart, Scott."

"And I'm here to guide you to his dick, buddy! What the hell is he going to do with a heart? "_Hey, Isaac, pull your heart out so I can shove it up my—_"

"As much as we appreciate your input, Stiles, refrain from spewing your lewdness, okay?"

"Gee, Mr. _Halo_, why so cranky today?" Stiles snickered, jumping on Derek's back and rubbing their cheeks together. He also had his tail tangled on Derek's halo, something he knew that aggravated the Wind familiar in a heartbeat.

"Are you two even real?" Scott scoffed, throwing his pillow at the two entities hovering above his headboard. Perhaps he should have considered asking somebody else for relationship advice, because he certainly wasn't getting much out of his conversation with those two. "I still need help, you know," he sighed, letting his body sink into the mattress.

It wasn't even that he never considered the ideas of liking boys, or had any particular issue with that. But suddenly finding out that your best friend's also likes you through your _wolfey_ abilities? That was something that his mom forgot to teach him. Mostly because Melissa hadn't anticipated her son would be born with a mutation so rare among people, but _yeah_.

"He's a good kid. I think he would be good for you," Derek pondered, disentangling himself from Stiles with a frown. He would give anything to have back the old days when they barely exchanged a word for weeks, instead of being teased on a regular base, and (sometimes) blushing like a schoolboy. "But remember that your lifestyle will put him into danger."

Stiles snorted. "The only danger for that Lahey kid would be dying dehydrated every time he sees old Scottie's booty, Der. That boy thirsty as hell, and I know what I'm saying because, well, I was born _there."_

"Why does everything you say ends with carnal matters, you lecherous creature? And stop calling me _Der_."

Scott made a disgruntled noise, akin to someone puking. In a way he could see this strange fondness going between his supernatural, little friends, and yet he almost got his eyebrows singed when he suggested that to Stiles— note to self: remember to never piss a Fire familiar, especially the Chaos ones. They're vindictive and will wait till you're sleeping to get their revenge on you. Derek took it _slightly_ better—if that's how one saw having his bedroom swept by a mini tornado in retaliation—but never really confirmed, nor denied anything, even if he adopted more casual clothes at some point, now sporting jacket, shirt and pants. All pieces white, of course.

"Any ideas for how we can stop that thing from attacking people?" Scott asked, bringing the focus of their chat back to more pressing matters. It's been a week since the police found the first corpse of a young woman without a heart in the woods, with no marks of puncture.

"Murder time!" Stiles chimed, at the same time that Derek replied with _"We smite them"_.

For some ridiculous and strange reason, the only thing Scott's friends seemed to agree on was killing things to solve problems, although for very different reasons. Derek would tell him that _"it's a noble work to cleanse the world of wickedness" _and that's why Scott got blessed with his powers, while Stiles would simply state _"why the hell not?" _and rub his hands together in excitement.

"I'm done with you two," the werewolf sighed, pulling the covers over his head.

~#~

"Found anything?"

"Sort of," Stiles shrugged, looking over his shoulder at Derek. "Nothing too conclusive, though."

Scott went out with Isaac and Erica, and the familiars decided to stay home and do some research on what could be preying on Beacon Hills' population. Derek asked his master to bring him one of Deaton's encyclopedias, whilst Stiles was in charge of searching information on-line on Scott's laptop. Despite the thing being almost double his size, he had no trouble typing with telekinesis, doing all work on his own due to Derek's hopelessness with modern stuff, something to do with Heaven's ban on humanity's technology.

Derek slid beside Stiles' in front of the bright screen, taking special care not to sit on the little devil's tail. "You think that's an Incubus' work?" he asked, his brow creasing with doubt. His reading of the book gave him a similar answer, though he figured Stiles' would have a more precise hunch, being also a dark creature and such.

"Dunno. It's an unusual behavior for that kind of demon," Stiles bit his bottom lip, letting the tip of his tail scratch a spot between his horns. "He is targeting women, but the harvesting of organs seems off."

Sounded reasonable. Derek nodded in understatement, realizing a second too late that he spent the majority of Stiles' explanation staring at his lips. Lips that he definitely shouldn't have been staring at. "Maybe we can track him down? He _must_ follow some pattern not immediately recognisable, I suppose."

For a moment Derek was unsure whether he said something unusually stupid or not, because Stiles just stared at him with mouth agape, blinking like a broken doll. The uneasiness grew to a point he couldn't stand, and when finally sure that he should voice his discomfort, he found himself being tackled over the table, his face being peppered with many butterfly kisses.

"You're a genius and I _love_ you! I could actually make out with you, right now!" Stiles beamed, resting their foreheads together, still straddling Derek's waist. Before the angel had the chance to complain or even shove him away, he rolled off of his counterpart and opened three pages with the victims profiles released in the news. "Give me a few more minutes for a thorough search," he winked back at a very flustered Derek, resuming his task as if nothing unusual had happened.

~#~

"I'm back, guys. How—" Scott stopped abruptly mid-sentence, his eyes zooming in on Derek of all things in his bedroom. Even if Familiars lacked the same basic internal arrangement as human beings, their emotions were easily read by their respective masters, and Derek's emotions felt a bit in disarray, which wasn't normal occurrence.

Also, Derek only meditated in the mornings.

"Hey, Big Boss! How did your date go?"

Scott laughed, shaking his head. The bag on his shoulder found a spot on the small couch beside his bed, while he took his socks off with only his toes, kicking the articles off. "It _wasn't_ a date, Stiles. Erica and Boyd were with us."

"Hum. I hope you got to fuck him, or it was a complete waste of your time," the Chaos familiar shrugged, oblivious to Derek glaring at him from Scott's bed, still in the same lotus position. "I want you to see this," he levitated the laptop into his master's hands, receiving praise for lifting something that heavy.

"And this would be...?"

"What all the victims have in common," Stiles pointed out, spreading his red, bat-like wings and flying to sit on Scott's right shoulder. Derek did the same, and took the left shoulder, joining them. "It was Der's idea, actually."

"H-He did the research by himself," Derek stuttered, then cleared his throat in an attempt of sounding anything but embarrassed. "I didn't do anything."

Regardless of what the angel thought, Scott thanked him with a sincere smile. Whatever bothered Derek, it would have to wait till they caught this Incubus and prevented another death. And preferably when Stiles wasn't around, since it obviously involved the other familiar, as well.

Scott's smile faltered fast, though, as he read characteristics that reminded him of the most important person in his life. "All these girls were nurses or studying to become one at some point of their lives," he whispered in a weak voice, dropping the laptop on the mattress. "Shit!"

The next instant, Scott headed to the hospital, because his mom happened to be working a late shift that night.

~#~

"I'll take him on! Go!"

The indecision in Melissa's eyes showed how much she worried about her son's well-being, but she obeyed, swallowing hard and rushing down the corridor to a room she could barricade to keep herself out of harm. She had no able time to recover from almost being attacked by a man shrouded in shadows, once Scott tackled the shady stranger with his superhuman strength and told her to search for shelter.

Apparently, everybody else in the building fell asleep due to some spell, making her, Scott and the shadowy guy the only ones awake. The man, whose face was hidden from view, recovered from Scott's attack fast, grumbling something that didn't sound quite human, and over his shoulder a hybrid of a black goat and a man floated, sitting in lotus position.

"Do you know him?" Derek asked, tightening his grip on his longbow. The ominous presence reeking of wickedness of the enemy's familiar churned his stomach almost effortlessly. He lived with Stiles, who was also a Chaos familiar, but despite their bickering, Stiles was more rude and blunt than a proper evil being.

"Nope. I would have suggested him to consider shearing, if I did," Stiles snorted producing a flame bat in his hands. Unlike Derek, he had always been for bashing to make sure he got work done, and arrows just wouldn't cut it. "We have to take him down, though."

Derek smirked. "That was the plan from the start, wasn't it?"

The tension filling the would choke anyone else to death. Scott had long wolfed out, baring his fangs and claws to the mysterious figure who dared trying to hurt his mother. His only options to end the fight would be either defeating the guy or having Derek and Stiles defeat the goat-like familiar, as only a familiar can harm another familiar. For having two familiars he doubled his chances of winning, but it also worked the reverse, since he would die if either Stiles or Derek died.

"Let's go."

At Scott's signal, Derek shot three wind arrows that sped up his master's movements even further, allowing the werewolf to connect a hard tackle that sent the Incubus flying down the hall and into another room. Meanwhile, Stiles also rode the wind to smack their enemy with his bat, however, his blow didn't connect, passing right through some kind of smog.

"I didn't come here to have my plans fooled by weaklings," an eerie voice cackled, red eyes shining inside the dark swirl of shadow and smoke. "Begone!"

"Stiles!" With a rapid tug, another three of Derek's arrow cut the air, this time to dissipate the black blob that engulfed Stiles. His unconscious body fell from inside the dust, covered in bruises and headed straight to the floor, barely giving Derek time to summon a breeze to cushion his friend's fall. "C'mon, Stiles! Wake up! This is _not_ time to sleep, you big-mouthed idiot!"

Derek carried Stiles slung over his shoulder, slapping the boy's face but to no avail. Things didn't look better on Scott's side either, because he saw his master being flung through a hole across the corridor into another room, the faceless guy soon crawling through the whole on the wall. He could go help Scott, but that meant leaving Stiles defenseless, and he doubted their enemy would just give him a time out to check on Scott's well-being.

"You're a few centuries too young to beat a Dark familiar, Angel of Wind. The same can be said to your fellow Ember boy," the same voice creepy voice spoke again, gaining physical form in the shape of a floating, goat head. "If you give up now, then I, Babel, won't have to kill your master. We're only after the woman."

"Go fuck yourself, rip-off of a Minotaur."

"Stiles! Are you okay?" Derek asked, struggling to keep them both airborne. The way Stiles winced told him the bruises probably hurt way more than they let out, but both knew that Derek wouldn't get to hear any complaints till they ended this fight. "Don't you scare me like that!"

Stiles' little smirk of satisfaction only confused Derek further. "That sounds an awful lot like you're worried about me, Mr. _Halo,"_ he laughed, regretting it as soon as he felt pain shoot through his ribcage. "I can take that fucker down with your help. What you say?"

"It pains me to agree with you, but I'll do anything for Scott."

"Angelical jerk," Stiles scoffed, sliding off Derek's shoulder.

Their new combined attack turned out more effective, putting them on par with the enemy. Derek attacked every time Babel attacked in his smoke form, while Stiles used his flames to burn the shadow attacks. However balanced the battle seemed to an outside viewer, the continuous struggle kept draining both sides' energy, and Stiles sustained severe damage from the first attack, meaning his body would likely be the first to lose in a endurance battle.

"You're mine, boy!" Babel gloated, summoning a dark lighting to strike Stiles when the boy felt a cramp in his right wing and lost his balance due to fatigue.

A blinding flash filled the corridor. By the time Stiles opened his eyes again, Derek stood in front of him with his arms wide open, clothes singed and dirty. "Stiles, did you get hurt?"

"Fuck! Der!" Stiles scrambled forward, struggling to fly with only one wing and catching Derek before he could hit the floor. He couldn't do much to keep both afloat with just one wing, and his mental state wouldn't let his concentrate enough to use telekinesis on both.

How could Stiles focus on anything when he saw Derek wounded in his arms, the beautiful—not that he would admit it out loud—white feathers now almost all burned and tattered? The only thing going through his mind would be a desperate chanted "Don't die" in a voice louder than any other thoughts he might have. Thoughts that otherwise wouldn't include taking Derek's face into his hand, being extra careful to not let his claws wound the angel's face any further.

"That's rich! A Law familiar sacrificing himself for a Chaos familiar!" Babel guffawed, his unearthly laugh sounding as shrill as metal scrapping together. "I've lived enough to see an angel die for a devil!"

"Why you did that, Derek? Not even you are _that_ stupid!"

Derek laughed. He didn't know—or maybe knew _too_ well—what he found so funny, but his first reaction was to laugh. He laughed because his existence consisted in living with a teen werewolf still in high school, who also treated him as a friend and didn't have a strict relationship between master and familiar. Laughed because Stiles got on his nerves from the very moment they met about two years prior, and his life depended on whether or not this annoying guy still lived. And finally, he laughed because despite of all reasons to actually feel anything other than affection, he cared about Stiles a bit more than he cared for his own master.

"I am stupid enough to fall in love with you of all people, it seems," he coughed, reaching a hand to clasp Stiles' pale cheek. Now that he would surely disappear, there was no point in keeping the feeling bottled up any longer. "I'll try to stay alive for a few more minutes, so just go kick that guy's ass, yeah?."

And that was that. Derek eyelids grew heavy, as his consciousness slipped away, going against all of Stiles' desperate pleas to keep his eyes open. The awful laugh that so far hadn't grated on Stiles' ears—seemingly tuned out by his focus on Derek—made him turn to Abel after he laid Derek on the floor.

"I won't ever forgive you."

Babel halted his laughter, not really catching whatever the little devil said. "Said anything, Ember Boy?"

"I said—" Stiles clenched his fist, "—I won't ever forgive you for hurting Derek!"

A circle of flames began burning around Stiles' feet, rapidly becoming a pillar that engulfed him. Stepping out the flames, he revealed bright orange eyes that resembled a lit fireplace on a winter's night, his canines grown as proper fangs that escaped his mouth. In his right hands the flames merged into yet another baseball bat, only that this time the barrel end had multiple spikes, which ensured a mean swing in every sense of the word— concrete proof of his resolution to fight to death.

"It won't take long," he whispered into Derek's ear, placing his lips upon the angel's very briefly.

As if responding to his gesture, a strong wind blew from Derek expanding the flames from the bat to Stiles' wings, body and tail, covering him in an armor made of fire.

"This is—"

Stiles' swung his bat down, sending Babel reeling into a fireball to the floor. The time it took him to fly from Derek's position to Babel was too little, signalizing that his speed rose far above its usual levels. Stiles attributed it to a fireball floating between his wings that responded to his wishes of _"faster"_ with some extra acceleration, reacting solely to his feelings and not requiring any special concentration on his part.

"Don't get cocky because you got me off guard, brat!"

A second lighting struck down, hitting Stiles head on. This time, however, it didn't reach the intended target, as a barrier of flames and winded shielded the Fire familiar from being directly hit. "We won't fall for the same trick twice," he announced, dissipating it with a whip of his left hand.

With a flap of his wings, Stiles conjured a tornado of fire, scorching Babel along with everything in the corridor. He fell from exhaustion not long after defeating his enemy, though never hit the floor, finding himself dandling by his ankles from Scott's hand.

"Nice job, buddy," a bruised Scott told him with a wide grin, just as Stiles lost his battle to keep himself conscious.

~#~

The world still looked a little blurry to Derek after he woke up. In his mind, he expected to wake up back at the pearly gates of Heaven, so it came as a bit of disappointment to find himself in his "bedroom"—which actually comprised furniture for dolls placed inside one of Scott's drawers—with Stiles sitting on a chair beside him and snoring his life away over Derek's thighs. Not that he was disappointed to see Stiles' face again, but he knew for a fact that 'Stiles' and 'Heaven' didn't go together in a sentence that made minimal sense.

"Dude, you're finally awake! I was starting to worry about you!" Scott called, prompting Derek to look up. "Now Stiles can finally get some sleep!"

Derek cleared his throat, finding it better to change subjects before his face _fried_ from blushing. "What happened?" he asked in a more casual tone, and running a hand through Stiles' hair on his lap.

"Basically, that goat you and Stiles' toasted was controlling the guy we saw at the hospital to steal organs for some crazy ritual shit, and losing a familiar doesn't seem to kill a turned master, but nullifies their power," Scott explained. "Oh, and I almost killed Isaac, since he was the one being controlled and stuff. He's still alive, but had fractured bones here and there from our fight."

_Whoa._ Now Derek was 150% sure he was either back to his normal life or having a weird nightmare. Even if he didn't mind Stiles drooling all over his lap. "I see," he nodded, looking down at the asleep figure on his lap. Hard to believe this peaceful being would be the dirty-mouthed guy who always got on his nerves, but if anything, Derek's kind of endeared.

"Well, nobody got too hurt. And I'm going to see Isaac before visiting hour is over," Scott beamed, clasping his hands together. "You two have stuff to talk, and I think it's good that you know you've been knocked out for a whole week. Bye, Derek!"

And with that, Scott was gone, not giving Derek the chance to voice a proper protest. Still, a week unconscious was quite a long time for humans and other earthbound creatures. Time that Stiles probably spent watching over Derek without getting any proper sleep, if at all. Familiars had no need for food or water, but sleep actually helped recover their energy and was vital to keep their powers working fine.

"Stiles, wake up."

No response, except for a _"No 'chool on 'undays, Mom"._

"Wake up!" Derek roared, pushing the other familiar to the floor.

He expected a death glare or a fireball cast at his face, but instead found himself being passionately kissed, a lascivious tongue exploring his mouth. Even more unexpected was Derek responding to the kiss, kissing back as much as he could muster. He may or may not have secretly watched one or two of those series Scott liked to watch all the time, just trying to learn how humans kiss.

What? A bit of knowledge would cause no harm. Plus, he never intended on actually using his kissing on _anybody_. _Nope,_ not even once.

"Don't scare me like that ever again! I thought you were gone for real!" Stiles finally breathed out, resting their foreheads together.

"Like you would still be here if I were really gone," Derek retorted with a smirk. "Our lives are tied, remember?"

"I can't imagine my life without you, Der. I mean, where else I'll find a familiar with no fashion sense to make fun of?"

Derek flicked him in the forehead. "You're an ass. And remember that _you_ suggested that I used these clothes."

Stiles let out a strangled laugh. Really, he doubted anybody in the world could ever amuse him as much as Derek, and seeing an angel say _"ass"_ evoked quite a pleasant sensation. Maybe it was just his inner devil relishing on the prospect of corrupting a light being. "Like that fucking toga was _so_ much better!" he snorted, prompting Derek to make some room for him in the bed. "Didn't I suggest you to try some color? I remember talking something about blue, Mr. cliché of an angel."

"Shut up, Ember Boy."

"Make me," Stiles grinned, bumping their shoulder together in defiance.

Scott then decided to stop listening on them and finally leave to visit Isaac. He wanted to tell his familiars that their new-found love gave him the unusual ability to generate electricity, but he doubted they would want to be interrupted on _whatever_ they planned on doing. For now, he would spend some time with his best friend, and finally have the balls to ask the boy out.

If even an angel and a devil can find love together, why can't he?

~Fin~


End file.
